


Making a Point

by Acidqueen (syredronning)



Category: Star Trek: The Original Series
Genre: BDSM, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-01-01
Updated: 2006-01-01
Packaged: 2020-06-27 09:34:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,671
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19788145
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/syredronning/pseuds/Acidqueen
Summary: The title pretty much says it all.





	Making a Point

**Author's Note:**

> Originally published in the zine "Dark Fire #1". Many thanks to Kathy Resch for the wonderful beta and cooperation. All remaining errors are mine.

"You're mine."

It was said so softly that it almost was lost in the background noise from outside their San Francisco apartment. Almost.

"You're mine," Kirk repeated, now with a certain edge to it. Sitting in a chair, nude, he looked down on the bundle at the floor where Spock lay in the robe they had modified a while ago. The hood was sewed in front and more like a sac now, closed around the Vulcan's neck with a chain and a lock. The former sleeves were sewn close, too, and leather strips were attached in back and front of the robe to keep the arms in place on both sides of the robe. Eight resilient straps were closed around the body at various places -- ankles, thighs, and upper arms -- leaving the man inside the robe as a helpless package. The feet were left free, the only skin to be seen.

In a way, it had been a practical consideration to use a robe as starting point for this gear. In another way, there was a certain irony and a certain declaration to it, as the meditative state one reached in it was externally enforced and somehow so...human.

As human as the man who hovered on the chair above it, silent again.

You can't take Vulcan out of a Vulcan, the saying went. But you could take Vulcan attitudes out of a certain Vulcan--sometimes.

It had been minor things that had changed over the last months, with both of them often away. But in the end, things had added up, not for the better, pushing Kirk to do this scene tonight. This way.

"You're mine."

The bundle lie in motionless silence, except for the minute heaving and lowering of the chest, a small sign of life beneath the fabric.

"You don't belong to your job. Not to Vulcan, not to the Federation. You belong to me."

Kirk slipped down from his chair and knelt down next to his lover's side. "You do, because I chose you," he said, and reached out to caress the closed hood along the area of Spock's chin. "I want you, all of you. I've got to share you often enough. But when we're both at home, I'm not willing to share you with anybody."

One of their consoles beeped. A small movement went through the sack, a small intake of breath was audible before Vulcan control took over. Kirk let it beep along--he had left them on intentionally. "I want you to be here for me when I'm home, with all your concentration on me. On us." He lay down next to him when the console's noise finally stopped. Propping his head on his right hand, he touched Spock's chest with his left, stroking up and down its length. "It's so good to be next to you. I cherish every morning we have. I want to wake up next to you, touch you, make love to you. I don't want to wake up in an empty bed because you've been awake too early or didn't need any sleep that night anyway. When I wake up, I want you next to me, because I love to have you there. It's one of the things I dream of when one of us is away."

Between the two straps that went over the upper and lower arms, Kirk found the parting of the robe's front and pulled it open, revealing some bare skin. He played with the dark hairs for a while and finally pushed the fabric farther aside to reach the nipples. He circled first one, then the other with his forefinger.

"I love to touch you, and to be touched by you. Sometimes you seem to forget that. Let me remind you how it's done."

Bending his head down, he sucked on the nearest nipple for a while. When he let it go, the chest beneath moved more quickly.

Kirk pulled back and crouched over the tied legs, putting the thighs between his knees. He lowered himself down and rubbed his groin on the fabric.

"Maybe you're beginning to remember now," he said, and stroked over the hips. Lowering his head he rubbed his nose over the area of Spock's groin. He followed the lines between legs and body, his head teasingly scratching along the half-erect penis beneath without really touching it.

Resting his forehead on Spock's abdomen for a moment, he rubbed along the tied arms, finding the hands, some fingers. They tried to make contact and intertwine with his, but couldn't.

Kirk climbed over and sat down at Spock's feet, taking them in his hands and massaging them. "I love to hear you walking around, your naked feet on the floor of the kitchen or the bathroom. I love to know you're here with me. I don't care if you're trying to move in Vulcan precision to avoid all sounds. I don't want you to put the music on sub-human volume as not to disturb me. And when I fall asleep on the couch, don't take the padd into another room because your work may be too noisy for me."

He went up and walked around the bundle. "I'm your life partner, not your flat-mate. If I wanted privacy from you, I'd divorce you. But I don't think that's what you want."

The door bell chimed, but Kirk ignored it just like the console earlier. All his concentration rested on the being on the floor and his own, alert state of mind. All his senses were heightened, every sound, every color, every little movement down there clear and bright.

"Maybe someone else would be satisfied to play second fiddle to your projects all the time, but I'm not." Kirk didn't voice Amanda's name, but was sure Spock understood. "You've been away for weeks. Not your body, but your mind, focused on everything but me. And I don't like it. Because I'm only human, after all. I need you. I need you badly."

There, he had said it. And the world still stood, no walls crumbling to the floor. James T. Kirk, fiercely independent in his private life, had spoken the words that he could really only say in such moments. When Spock couldn't logically reply that to need so much was not in Jim's nature, that he would be able to live without him. That the youngest admiral ever would find someone else to take Spock's place, maybe not today, but tomorrow.

Maybe Kirk would be able to do all of this -- but he didn't want to. And most important, he couldn't even imagine living without Spock anymore. And so, for the first time in his life, he allowed himself to be tied to someone. Not with the visible straps that held Spock now, but with the invisible ones that were in reality so much tighter. A companionship so close that he only had to say half a sentence for Spock to complete it; a love so deep that sometimes he felt like seeing the strings of emotion as a broad, shimmering band between them, emitting from their fingertips and eyes and chests like psychic sunrays.

He knelt at Spock's side, bending down to kiss the mouth behind the hood. It took a few tries before he could find the lips that were forced open by the gag. He followed their line, sucking at the fabric and the skin below while his fingers traced the lean neck along the chain. Who couldn't escape whom? The metal of the chain was just a small, physical mirror of what really tied them together, but sometimes they needed it, needed it both to remember what it felt like.

Beneath his caresses, his lover moved, encountering his touch by raising the hooded head. Suddenly, there was much too much material between them. With shaking fingers Kirk opened the lock, removed the chain and tossed the layer aside to free Spock's face. The gag went next, and their mouths and tongues found each other with a burning intensity. For minutes they did nothing else but kiss; then Kirk rolled over and hastily opened the straps. They didn't make it to the bed anymore, but locked together on the floor, their bodies entwined as if there were no next day, their hands touching everything they could reach over and over again.

Time was floating in this state of perfect oneness, parting a concept that had no place in this universe. They were each other's stars, brilliant heat and burning light. Senses were swimming in almost unreal pleasure, until the waves crushed over them in a climax. It barely could touch the fabric of feelings, though; only slowly, their perception shifted back to reality. It was already dark then, and they went up and moved to the bed, their fingers still laced, unable to bear being without physical contact. They lay down face to face, embracing.

"Sometimes I wonder if you still care for me," Spock's voice whispered into the night. "If you still want my presence, like you did in the past. Moments like these tell me that I am indeed...wanted."

Kirk opened his mouth -- then closed it again. It was emotionally safer just to hug Spock as tightly as he could right now; it wasn't just their bodies that were naked. Sometimes he was sorry he wasn't Vulcan, couldn't give Spock the security a real, true bond between two Vulcans would. But he couldn't change it, and Spock claimed that he didn't miss it.

Suddenly the Vulcan's lips were very close to his ears. "There is no one I want to be with but you. There is no place in the universe I want to be but with you. And I cannot imagine being that close to anyone but you."

Kirk took a deep breath. "As I feel for you," he finally managed to say. Out in the living room, a message chirped on a console and was left unanswered as they began making love again.


End file.
